Ada Lovelace Cracks the Code
63 pages

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63 pages

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From the world of Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls comes a story based on the exciting real-life adventures of Ada Lovelace, one of the world’s first computer programmers.

Growing up in nineteenth century London, England, Ada is curious about absolutely everything. She is obsessed with machines and with creatures that fly. She even designs her own flying laboratory!

According to her mother, Ada is a bit too wild, so she encourages Ada to study math. At first Ada thinks: Bleh! Who can get excited about a subject without pictures? But she soon falls in love with it. One day she encounters a mysterious machine, and from that moment forward Ada imagines a future full of possibility—one that will eventually inspire the digital age nearly two hundred years later.

Ada Lovelace Cracks the Code is the story of a pioneer in the computer sciences, and a testament to women’s invaluable contributions to STEM throughout history.

This historical fiction chapter book also includes additional text on Ada Lovelace’s lasting legacy, as well as educational activities designed to teach simple coding and mathematical concepts.

About the Rebel Girls Chapter Book Series
Meet extraordinary real-life heroines in the Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls chapter book series! Introducing stories based on the lives and times of extraordinary women in global history, each stunningly designed chapter book features beautiful illustrations from a female artist as well as bonus activities in the backmatter to encourage kids to explore the various fields in which each of these women thrived. The perfect gift to inspire any young reader!



Publié par
Date de parution 12 novembre 2019
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781733329248
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0400€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.


Copyright © 2019 by Timbuktu Labs, Inc. Activities Copyright © 2019 Wogrammers
Rebel Girls supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book, and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting indie creators as well as allowing Rebel Girls to publish books for rebel girls wherever they may be.
Timbuktu Labs and Rebel Girls are registered trademarks.
Our books are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchase for sale promotions, premiums, fundraising, and educational needs.
For details, write to
Text: Corinne Purtill
Cover and Illustrations: Marina Muun
Cover Lettering: Monique Aimee
This is a work of historical fiction. We have tried to be as accurate as possible, but names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents may have been changed to suit the needs of the story.
ISBN 978-1-7331761-8-7

Ada Lovelace
December 10, 1815 - November 27, 1852



A da crept through the jungle, stepping so lightly her shoes made no sound. For weeks, a fearsome tiger had stalked the nearby villages. It devoured people most horribly. And now she, the bravest hunter . . .
No, hunter wouldn’t do. She didn’t want to hurt the tiger.
She, the bravest tiger tamer (yes, much better) would befriend the animal and convince it to stop eating people. Perhaps it could even be coaxed into living with her as a pet. She gathered her courage, stepped into the clearing, and raised her hands.
“Got you!” Ada cried, tumbling onto the cushion where her cat, Mistress Puff, had been comfortably napping in a ray of sunlight. Ada ignored Mistress Puff’s yelps of annoyance and snuggled her face into the cat’s soft, white fur.

Augusta Ada Byron was eight years old. She lived in a big house just outside of London. It was a good house, with a schoolroom for her lessons and a grand staircase with a huge hall, whose walls made a wonderful, rich sound when you stood on the top step and sang loudly. Sometimes, she pretended the kitchen was a witch’s den full of bubbling cauldrons while cackling to herself. (This made the cook shouty and Mama very cross.) Sadly, the things that were most interesting to do and the things that she got scolded for were too often one and the same.
It wasn’t that Ada wanted to be naughty. She tried to be a good girl. She wanted to please Mama and her governess, Miss Lamont, who could play the piano and had a lovely Irish accent. But Ada had so much energy that sitting still was simply impossible. One day, she bit the maid who scolded her, and then bit the wooden railing when she was sent to sit on the stairs.
Unfortunately that was the end of Miss Lamont. Since then Ada had taken her lessons from a string of stern-faced tutors. They were good at molding girls into young ladies, she supposed, but not much else.
“Miss Byron!”
Ada jumped, and Puff leapt off her lap and raced down the hallway. All the tutors seemed to know exactly when Ada’s mind had wandered. Ada looked enviously after Puff, then hurried to the schoolroom. She looked at the agenda Madame had written on the board: geography, music, French, math, Italian . . . Fifteen minutes at a time until the day was through.
Ada was happy to see geography and music on the day’s agenda but much less excited about the math. How was anyone supposed to enjoy a subject without pictures? Geography, on the other hand, was excellent for making up stories.
“Norway is a Scandinavian country with a rugged coastline and waves as high as seventeen meters—”
“What makes the waves, Madame?” Ada interrupted.
“Hush,” Madame replied sternly. “The Norwegian Sea is—”
“Would the waves be taller than our house?”
“Excuse me?”
“The waves. The gardener says that lovely tree in front of our house is fifteen meters high and the tree is taller than the roof. So the waves in Norway would be taller than our house, n’est-ce pas? Isn’t that so?” Ada looked out the window, imagining the sea swelling across the yard. Water pressed against the glass as if she were a fish inside a tank.
Madame sighed and closed her eyes. She did this often during geography lessons. Geography must make her sleepy , Ada thought.
Ada ran her finger along the globe and rested it on Greece. The Greek islands looked like clouds breaking apart to reveal a patch of clear blue sky.
Greece was where her father lived. Mama had told her that the last time she’d asked where her father was. Then Lady Annabella Byron’s mouth had grown small and firm which meant Ada was not to ask any more questions.
Ada could not remember meeting her father, though her mother said she had. She kept the presents he had sent her: a ring, a locket, a length of ribbon, and a tiny picture of Italy.
She knew he was a poet, which sounded boring to Ada. All the poetry books she read were full of dull rhymes about children who felt peaceful and good because they listened to their parents. Ada found it hard to imagine any children like that.
She decided instead that her father was a great ship captain. That would explain why he lived in a country surrounded by the sea.
The door swung open, and a woman with brown curls, sharp eyes, and the posture of a queen stepped into the room.
Instinctively, Ada ran toward her. Then she caught herself at the sight of Lady Byron’s fierce expression and stopped to curtsey instead.
“Good morning, Ada,” Lady Byron said. “Good morning, Madame. How is Ada’s schoolwork?”
“Her French and Italian are excellent, but she is lazy in mathematics and geography. Her daydreams disrupt our lessons.”
Ada groaned quietly. Nothing made her mother angrier than daydreaming.
“Ada, I will not have you ruining your education with nonsense and flights of fancy. No more geography and no more stories at bedtime until you focus.”
“But Mama . . . ”
“That’s enough,” Annabella scolded, turning to glare at the teacher. “And you, Madame, keep Ada’s mischief to a minimum.” Annabella left the schoolroom, leaving a glum-faced Ada and Madame behind.
That night, a strange, muffled sound woke Ada from her sleep.
She crept down the hallway and peeked between the banister rails to see better. Below, her mother’s hands were pressed to her face to hide her tears. The sound of her sobs echoed up the stairs into Ada’s own heart. Two servants rushed into the hallway below, and Ada scurried out of sight.
“Lord Byron is dead.”
“Shall I wake Miss Byron?”
“No. Lady Byron says the girl is not to be told.”
Ada retreated to her room. She closed the door and climbed back into bed, pulling the covers up under her chin. She lay there for some time, trying to decide how she felt about her father’s death.
The next morning her mother said nothing at breakfast. Ada didn’t either, but made sure to be extra polite. Before excusing herself for her lessons, she stood on tiptoe and planted the softest kiss she could on her mother’s cheek. Ada thought she saw her mother’s eyes grow wet, but Annabella waved her away.
Ada heard Madame calling her to start the first lesson of the day, but she walked in the opposite direction to the far end of the house. There, hung a portrait covered by a green velvet curtain. Ada had never been allowed to look at the portrait, nor had she found the courage to defy her mother. But today was different. She took a deep breath and pulled back the curtain to see her father’s face for the very first time.

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